adult confessions, the series is back

I bought a tank top a few years ago. It’s very a ‘camp’ astrological graphic. It has two fishes with long eyelashes, purple hair and sparkles – it says, “Pisces, Sensitive Girl. I was born on March 20th – the cusp between Pisces and Aries and in every magazine, newspaper, and postcard 3/20 is Pisces.

In college, I was hanging out with a close friend who bought a huge astrological manual. He decided to look up my info and found that on the year I was born – 3/20 peeps were Aries. I was kind of in shock, having been a sensitive girl my whole life. We debated over it and found a section that allowed one to be a Pisces with Aries tendencies. I reluctantly accepted this, had a silent personality crisis and later denied that it ever happened.

Until last year. When the same friend got me an astrological reading for my birthday. The woman read my chart and said, you’re an Aries. I said, no, I’m a Pisces. To which she replied, Girl, you don’t want to be a Pisces. It’s time for you to be an Aries.

I couldn’t deny it. I’ve been living a passive, sensitive, mysterious life for too long. It’s time for me to take charge, exude confidence, but heads or whatever it is that rams do.

But I haven’t really told anyone. So now I’m telling everyone. I’m an Aries – hear me but heads. The BF suggested that I get a tank that says, Aries, bitch.

Bummer

I just spent the last hour putting together my resume, cover letter and references for a job. Then I refreshed the employer’s website and the listing was gone.

Road Rage, My Bad

I learned a valuable lesson today, folks. Actually, I should have learned this long ago and even not so long ago. Let me explain…

I live very close to a freeway exit which is awesome and not. One of the problems is that 4-5 lanes merge when I need to get over to the exit only lane. It’s dangerous and even more so at rush hour. So I’m driving home in rush hour after just doing a reading of my work to an audience at school. Nerves were ripe.

I got almost all the way to the right without getting hit and there’s this dude who won’t let me into the exit only lane that I need to be into so I can go home. So, I flipped him off and yelled. He saw me and then I realized that he wasn’t trying to keep me out of the lane – he didn’t even see me because he was talking on the phone. I continued to struggle to get over and ended up in front of him. I knew this wasn’t a gracious act on his part and thought, oh bugger.

When we exited, I pulled into a different lane and he pulled behind me. His high beams were on and he was following close. I drove by my house because, as I said, I learned that lesson. I quickly pulled into a left hand turn lane hoping he would continue straight ahead. He pulled behind me. I was at a stop. I locked my door.

He got out of the car and came to my window. It struck me as amusing that he had his cel phone in hand. This was our exchange:

“What’s your problem?”

“You shouldn’t drive while you are on the phone.”

“What’s your problem?”

“You shouldn’t drive while you are on the phone.”

And then he walked back to his car. We both turned and after a moments pause he drove away from me. I doubled back and went home.

Did he think I was crazy and flipping him off for no reason? Did he have anger management problems? Do I?

All I can do is give this advice. If you are driving home in rush hour in your fancy convertible car with the special ‘art’ license plate don’t flip off the guy on the phone in the beat up mini van who, it turns out, works for Fed Ex or at least was wearing one of their T-shirts. I hope he’s not a Fed Ex driver.

And I promise to stop flipping people off. I promise. I promise. I promise. I’ll pretend to do it in my head instead.

Pat on my back

For my paper making class, we had to bring in a short piece of writing that another class will typeset onto our paper. I was kind of indifferent about it. I mean, I wasn’t going to bring in the poem I wrote about becoming a flesh-eating beast.

But in the end, I figured I would bring in a piece of my own writing. It was a silly little 32 word dialog. The class voted on all the submissions. I tied with William Carlos Williams. The class voted again and he won by a single vote.

All I can say is, it’s on Billy. Someday my words will be typeset for realz.

What can I say?

First comes love, then comes marriage.