Oh Dear

I realize this is two rants in a row, but for some reason my crab-o-meter is over the edge lately. I don't know why, but I think I anticipated going from public transportation to driving would ease my tension and irritation towards the general populace.

I should've known better.

Dear MN Vehicular Users:

1) Your SUV is NOT a compact car. I don't care how short and cute it is, you cannot park in the compact car space. Stop being delusional.

2) Mr. Man with the Dodge Ram who parked across in TWO parking spaces, 10 feet from the door on a 40 below windchill day. Go directly to hell. Do not pass go, do NOT collect $100.

3) Mr. Minivan who ran a red left-hand turn light in a left hand turn lane. But, instead of turning left, he went straight! Apparently, a big red arrow pointing left just doesn't reach some people at 8am. Oh yes sir, that WAS the angry mitten!

4) I realize the snow and copious amounts of hotdish probably makes judging the speed of an oncoming car difficult, but please, don't merge and then SLOW DOWN in front of me. I'm talking to you with the break lights.

5) Also, speaking of merging. Don't be a lazy ass. If I'm trying to merge from the on-ramp, take your car off cruise control for one tiny second to let me in.

6) Lastly, I realize that you're probably trying to grab a CD from floorboards, or a toothpick from your backseat, but the rest of us don't know this. Please don't break in the middle of the interstate for no good reason! It breaks up the flow of traffic and you are bound to get rear-ended. If you really need something from your purse that badly, pull over, or pull over, grab a hitchhiker and let THEM get it for you.

pantpantpant *end rant*

Honestly, I don't know if this is culture shock - or weather shock - but man, this really gets my goat in a way even I'M surprised at. I guess this serves to prove you can take the girl out of the east coast, but you can't take the east coast out of the girl.

Or maybe I should've just moved to warmer climate.
M is for Mass Transit Mayhem,
M.

Passive-Agressive Much?

There are alot of wonderful things about living back in Minnesota, but every coin has two sides. Today at lunch, I was rammed in the head with possible the MOST annoying thing about Minnesota: that is, Minnesotans.

There are five microwaves in the cafeteria area. Being a Fortune 500 company, there is usually a queue around noon-noon fifteen. I understand you need time to warm up your tator tot hotdish and sloppy joes, but really, there needs to be some etiquette training.

I walk up to microwave today, to heat up my soup, and open it, because it was off (and clearly not running).

A snippy brunette about my age, was waiting in front of another machine, steps in and snips, "Someone's food is in there."

Being hungry, I said, "Well, the microwave is off. This person is not here and there is a line." In my mind, it is ridiculous for one person to hold up an entire line of people waiting to get hot food. Also, it's just a microwave, not the End of the World.

"But what if it's not hot?" says the fat woman wearing a fleece (really, fleece? at work?) embroidered with the words "TAMPA BAY".

"Well, then they should've kept a better eye on it and not wandered away." Again, there are people waiting!

So, without another word, I take out the mystery person's food and set it on the table. I feel all the women around me bristle.

Then, the Snippy Brunette then STEPS IN FRONT OF ME and says, oh well, I'll just pop my sandwich in for only 10 seconds.

Wait, WHAT?

And, AT THE EXACT SAME TIME, the fat woman behind me picks up the tupperware and turns to another woman that has just joined the line and says "Oh Barb, is this yours? Is it hot enough?"

So, I'm left standing there, with all the post-menopausal women glaring at me because Barb's macaroni hotdish is only WARM while the Snippy Brunette has clearly taken advantage of my up front assessment of the situation and STOLEN the microwave! I mean really, just because you didn't have the balls to take it out of the microwave yourself doesn't mean you have first dibs when someone else does.

But, I couldn't say anything, because I'd already used up my fill of acceptable "rudeness" for the day.

I'm ready for spring.
M is for Microwave Moron,
M.

And by the way...

Mostly, I buy the exact same size and brand of undewear from Victoria's Secret, whenever need be (or there's a sale, whichever comes first).

Today I was wearing said underwear, and it keep riding up my right buttcheek.

Now, as I said, I buy the EXACT SAME size and style of underwear from Vicki's - EVERY TIME. In fact, just recently, I purchased about three new pairs of said underwear - and this is the ONLY pair of the three (or ever) to ride up.

Which leads me to ponder the question - did Vicki's mislabel the size, OR DID MY RIGHT BUTTCHEEK JUST BECOME SPONTANEOUSLY LARGER?

Sigh.

Well..

I thought that as long as I had changed jobs, licenses, mailing addresses, and underwear, I might as well go ahead and update this thing, too. I've also never been to keen on the title, so I've changed it, although the address will remain the same.

The photo in the heading is a row of trees in the field directly across from my parents farm. I stared at that thing every day for 18 years - mostly trying to figure out if the visibility was good enough to go out - or gauging if I could risk leaving my one and only home.

Which, of course, I eventually did.

No word yet on what sense any of it makes, but for all intents and purposes, this is my life - beyond the shelterbelt.

The Angry Mitten

I fear, dear readers, I have waited too long to introduce you to the wonders of the Angry Mitten. It's not really my fault, I just haven't had use for the phrase (except at cocktail parties) until I moved back here. I can't (and won't) take full credit for its coinage (thanks, Rachel!) but I will prostelytize it's use.

Now that I'm back in Minnesota, the frozen tundra, 'tis time to trot out this useful phrase when someone cuts you off, leaves their left hand blinker on for ten city blocks, or simply, drives like an idiot.

That is to say, while in other - NORMAL- cities during the winter, you'd simply honk your horn and show your rage with a quick and easy flip of the leather finger.

But in Minnesota, one faces peril, if not certain frostbite should you dare to glove your fingers seperately. And lo, that elegant gesture, covered by large (shearling lined) mittens, gets immediately transformed into a flat-palmed italian full-hand "whats-a-matta-you!" arm wave.

So while YOU know you are wiggling the one-finger hello, all the other driver sees is a large mitten, waving like a dead fish.

That, my friends, is the Angry Mitten.

M.

Extra credit! Use it in a sentence at work tomorrow:
"Man, on the way to work today, some jerk cut me off and the SLOWED down on 494!
"Did you give him the Angry Mitten?"

Choices

The last time I moved, my friend Ann (sufferer of Vertigo, below) and I ended up having a conversation about life that has stuck with me ever since. We were bitching (as usual) about finances - mostly about expensive apartments and other horribly high expenses that are part of post-graduate DC life.

I distinctly remember her saying, "You know, I thought I'd be farther by now."
"Like how?" I asked.

"Well, I thought I might have a house - or atleast drive a better car. When I was in high school, I thought being a grown up was going to be awesome."

I remember laughing at this, and saying, "...and then you grew up and realized it totally sucks?"

She grinned, and agreed.

I thought about that for awhile, and then mused, "But, think of all the things in high school you thought you were going to have as an adult."

"Ha! I wanted a car...and a place I didn't have to share with my sister....and a job with my own money....and to go shopping whenever I wanted..."

I pointed out to her that, caveats aside, by high school standards anyway, we were living the lives we always wanted (nevermind that the car came with insurance, the apartment with utilities and the job with, well, work. Oh yes and credit card bills for all those damn shoes...). but my point remained, we were essentially living the lives we wanted. (We just never counted on the consequences!)

This past month has been full of hard, not-fun, grown-up choices for me. I thought of Ann as I was greeted by sub-zero temperatures after spending the new year with my HMF in sultry DC. I had to remind myself that it was my choice that put me here, and no one else.

I saw again that growing up sucks - and you can take that truth to the Bank.

But I had to remind myself that, all caveats aside, I have all the things I had dreamt of in high school. Hell, college even. In fact, my life has been pretty neat - and my choices have shaped that. It's the choices I've made (even the sucky ones) that have made my life interesting and fulfilling.

I guess my point is that growing up never turns out the way you think it will, choices are never as cut and dried as you want them to be- but by and large having ownership of those choices and seeing the life you've built for yourself is a neat feeling. That's it, in a nutshell, of what I've been feeling lately.

Did this require a blog post? Probably not.

You're Definitely Back in Minnesota When...

You're at the mall foodcourt, watching two grandparents and their middle aged daughter chow down on crappy chinese food, and they pull out their own tupperware (brought from HOME) to bag the leftovers.

Now THAT's the midwestern sensibility I'd been missing!

M.
/now will someone please dig out my car??!