I Have Issues: Sidewalk Rage

The streets of Downtown Seattle frustrate me, but not because of all the traffic. Most of you who know me know that I don't drive. And I don't mean I just don't have a car, I've never had my license. I learned to drive when I was 15, but I wasn't great at it and I feel like if you can't do something well you shouldn't do it at all, amiright? I think when I tell the story to new people it includes a few bits about my parents and how they never really wanted to let me practice because we like to avoid stress as much as possible in our family (aka laziness). I also talk about how two of my best friends in high school were in the same driver's ed car as I was and there was a little bit of ridicule and boy can I not take criticism well. How dare they laugh when I drove right up on to a street corner? OH, and then I mention how many car wrecks that both of those girls got in within the next few years after getting their licenses. I'm still not sure my best friend Shannon ever goes the actual speed limit. (Shannon - I say that with ALL the love in my heart!)

So, I take the bus and walk places. It isn't so bad. Not that I enjoy taking two hours out of my day to go visit my future in-laws, or having to leave events early because the last bus is coming, but I manage. Dan drives, but we also don't have a car, so that doesn't help so much. And even if we did have a car, I really really wouldn't want to drive it, and he wouldn't want to be my chauffeur as lovely as that idea sounds to me. I don't want to operate something that is a million times stronger than I am. I could like, hurt people or something. That would TOTALLY suck.

Also, I have this rage issue. Even when I'm not the one driving I will usually be the one getting angry at the guy cutting us off and end up flipping people off. Rage is not a good trait in a driver, I think. I don't want to find myself in a situation with someone who has even more rage than me, either. I could end up getting myself all shot up and crap. No good.

I mean, I can't even walk down the street without getting angry, which gets me back to my original point. The frustrating SIDEWALKS of Downtown Seattle. I work in the heart of the shopping area here, and that means that most of the people walking around do not have a specific destination. They are on the scenic route, leisurely window shopping and chatting along the way. This is not good for me and my rage issues, particularly when I DO have a specific destination, work for example. Don't all these well meaning individuals know that they are in my effing way? Why must they walk at a snail's pace? And then they walk in groups, side by side, so there is no way to pass. Add into it the weird promotional event happening outside of the mall that is spilling out onto the sidewalk with gawking onlookers and a hoard of Children International reps trying to get me to give them money and it is about enough to make me want to punch a baby. And it wells up inside of me so that by the time I get to work, even the slightest annoyance makes me seethe with fiery anger. Or maybe I'm on my way to catch a bus, and then I miss my bus by mere seconds. I want to take everything I am holding and just throw it on the ground. You know, like this guy:



I mean, I probably won't do it. Well, unless I've been drinking, then it is usually my cell phone that suffers in that situation. I'm trying really hard to be as nice as possible to my new iPhone, though. That would just be sad.

In short, it is probably a really good idea that I don't drive, considering just walking down the street can turn me into an angry gorilla on steroids.

Monday Musings

I just realized that I haven't posted in over a week, and that is totally against the rules, so here I go... without an actual topic.

I made more pickles today. I AM A PICKLE MACHINE. I have 21 jars of dill pickles now, I think that might be enough to last at least a month or two, right?

It is baby city all up in here. Dan's sister just had a baby a few weeks ago, and my friends Roxanne and Jessie are about to have a baby too. I went to their baby shower on Saturday, which was a wonderful little party with lots of old friends there. I gotta say, the whole thing is making me a little crazy, though. I mean, one thing at a time and all, I need to focus on the wedding planning and stuff, but BABIES. My ovaries are screaming, can you hear them?

I sort of fizzled out on the wedding planning, too. I guess I just have a lot planned already and now there isn't much to do other than wait until it is closer, but I was so hyped and now I'm just like, meh. I'm excited about the actual wedding, just not all the weird details I am eventually going to have to think about. Like, where is Dan going to find wedding pants that are long enough? Why does he have to be so tall? Hehe. And who is going to facilitate the food situation on the day of? And do we rent a car to get around? IS POTLUCK A NIGHTMARE?

Um, let me take a deep breath and talk about something else.

My new favorite thing in the whole world is Marc Maron's WTF podcast. He is hilarious and also so open and kind of raw, it is so wonderful to listen to. And it is so inspiring, listening to all these comedians talk about their careers. It does make me wish I were funnier or something. But of course, there also is so much about the craziness that goes along with being a comedian. A lot of neuroses. Although I am quite neurotic, so I kind of wish I had that crazy ability to make people laugh that would make the mental illness a little bit more worth it. Anyway, I can't stop listening. The Judd Apatow two-parter is a must listen.

I'm hoping that I can post something a little more entertaining later on this week, I'm just a little brain-dead right now. We've got big meetings at work this week, so perhaps over the weekend I'll get back to some regularly scheduled blogging. Until then, I LOVE PICKLES. Er, I mean, goodnight.

Nightmare on Dan Street

I'm in your brain, making you scared.

Tall Dan(tm) has what we think may be night terrors. Let me use an article from another website to explain.

"What Are Night Terrors?
Night terrors are known by several names: sleep terrors, night terrors, sleep terror disorder and pavor nocturnus. In all cases, the sleeper has very frightening dream episodes which, in turn, cause the sleeper to experience extreme physical effects for anywhere from five to thirty minutes. The sleeper may twist around in bed or sit up and cry out as a result of their fear, often with their eyes wide open in a stare, even though they remain asleep. 

A person with night terrors may also experience other physical changes which are usually associated with fear such as:

• Rapid breathing – The sleeper can appear to be panting or trying to catch their breath.
• Increased heart rate – The heart can be felt through the chest with a rapid rhythm.
• Sweating – The sleeper might be sweating all over and may appear flushed as if they have been running.

Some people remember that they had a night terror the next morning. They may even remember what was frightening them and that they could not seem to wake up. They may remember vague images of frightening animals such as spiders or snakes or people who were trying to hurt them. On the other hand, most sleepers have no memory of the night terror when they wake up." 

The focus is on the highlighted portion above. But take the sitting up and crying out and add in him violently grabbing me and/or shielding me from whatever the scary thing happens to be. Sometimes he'll even talk to me, saying things that make absolutely no sense. Usually this happens when I am 100% sound asleep, dreaming of cute kittens and Donald Glover. Imagine being ripped from your happy place by someone who is acting like bombs are falling on your bed.

This happened a few nights ago, which also happened to be a night during our most recent heat wave. Our apartment gets very, very hot and I don't handle heat well when trying to sleep. We actually stayed up pretty late that night because it was so hot and we knew that we probably wouldn't get any quality sleep time until it had at least dipped below 80 degrees outside. I may have taken a vicodin and a benadryl to help with the sleeping (Just as an aside, I am not a drug addict, I spend way too much money on clothing to be able to afford a drug habit as well) so when my head finally hit the pillow I drifted to dreamland pretty much immediately. I'd say about 1:30 AM, maybe a little less than an hour after going to sleep, I was jolted awake by Dan violently sitting up, saying something loud and incoherent and putting his arm across me to hold me down. Remember "stopping short" from Seinfeld? Kind of like that, only scary and not at all funny. You may think I should be used to this, after all he has done it many times before. You forget that I was just woken from the sleep of the dead and my drug addled brain couldn't handle such things. So I basically thought it was zombie apocalypse time.

Thinking we were all about to die, I yelled "WHAT?" at him and he just stared at me, not moving, breathing heavily. Again, "WHAT? WHAT IS THE MATTER? WHAT IS HAPPENING?" and nothing, just *blink blink* crazed stare. I think then I shook him and asked him what the hell was going on. As soon as he started becoming aware of what was going on, I proceeded to flip out. I screamed and then went into the bathroom to calm the eff down. This is not a good way to deal with the situation, I realize, but my adrenaline was pumping and I had just prepared myself for zombies, so I wasn't feeling so great. Turns out Dan thought someone was coming in the bedroom to get us (maybe zombies?). At least I know when zombies do actually come in the bedroom to get us, Dan will try to protect me. He's a nice man.

Usually it is a giant spider or something equally scary and gross that is somewhere in the bedroom and about to get on me or him or kill/eat us. After a few minutes he either goes right back to sleep or wakes up and is all, "it seemed so real!" Here is my favorite exchange from one of his episodes:

Dan: OH MY GOD! (shoots straight up from bed and points at the closet)

Me: What is it?!

Dan: Oh my god, he's stuck! (still pointing at the closet)

Me: Who is stuck? (thinking somehow our cat Ron is stuck somewhere, even though the closet is closed and barricaded shut by laundry baskets)

Dan: HE IS STUCK!!! (more panic)

Me: Who, Dan, who is stuck? And where? (more panic)

Dan: Bob, he's stuck in the closet!

Me: Who is Bob?

Dan: A Pokemon.

Me: Um, hey Dan, go back to sleep.

Dan: What? Oh, ok.

PIKA! I'm in your closet! PIKA!