Confession

I kind of hate to see the word “confession” in a blog post because it’s never really a confession. It’s always this check-out-how-quirky-I-am thing. It’s not something you’re actually going to find horrifying, it’s usually something meant to be adorable. I mean, you see “confessions” about being obsessed with mason jars or not getting the hype around a tv show or listening to dorky music when you work out. You don’t see confessions about not having ever cleaned your refrigerator or peeking at your friends phone while they went to the bathroom. (Neither of those are true about me.) 

So, here’s something possibly quirky and adorable about me that I think is actually a really bad habit that might get me killed one day. I yell at people while I’m riding my bike.

I did it three times this morning, which is what got me thinking that I may have a problem.

Yell number one:  I was waiting behind a car at a red light and watching him play with his phone. The light changed, still on his phone. “GET OFF YOUR PHONE, DUDE!” I yelled.

Yell number two: Not really a yell, but I was behind a Jaguar in traffic, and one of his brake lights was out. At the next stop light he was going straight, and I was turning right, so when I pulled up next to him in the turn lane, I motioned for him to roll his window down and politely told him he has a brake light out. He said thanks but looked kind of weirded out. Which I get. People talking to you in traffic is weird.

Yell number three: I stopped at a red light in the bike lane. Directly across the intersection, two cyclists looked back at me. What’s wrong with this picture?  Stupid bike salmon. I gave them a head tilted quizzical look across the intersection, and as we passed each other I yelled. “GUYS, THIS IS A ONE WAY STREET.” Well, they were pretty close to me so I didn’t have to yell very loud.

And then yesterday, this is a bad one, I watched a girl on a B-cycle nearly get flattened when she snuck up past a line of cars at a stop light, passing on the right.The light changed, we all went forward, and she was nearly hit as both of the first two cars in line were trying to turn right. And I yelled “THAT’S A GREAT WAY TO GET HIT BY A CAR.” Because I am horrible and rude and unbelievably snotty about bike safety,

I generally value decorum, but I can’t stop yelling at people when I’m on my bike.

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On feeling stupid (or not)

I cringed when I watched this Jimmy Kimmel video, a series of “man on the street” interviews asking people if they preferred the “Affordable Care Act” or “Obamacare.” And I hoped they had to interview 20 or 30 people before finding a handful that didn’t know they were the same thing.

I like to think I do a fairly good job of not looking stupid by not being afraid to sound a little stupid and just admit when I’m not fully up to speed. There are a lot of moving parts at my job, and I probably find myself saying “Can you refresh me on the details of how that works?” at least once a week.

The other day someone asked me point blank what I thought of the situation in Syria, and I had to just sigh. “I definitely wish I knew more about what was going on, but I’m afraid I haven’t been keeping up.” The person I was talking to proceeded to give me his opinion, which is what I think he was really getting at anyways. Win-win.

This week over dinner the topic of a North Carolina school board that banned Invisible Man. And my friend was talking about how crazy it was for this book to be banned especially since it was such a classic, and I said, “Wait, sorry.What’s it about? I mean, I know it’s about a man who can turn invisible…”

Whomp whommmp. (In my defense,  I bounced around a lot of different schools, so my required reading was all messed up. I never had to read Catcher in the Rye or Great Gatsby but I had to read Beowulf like four times.)

Nope. I’m a dummy. Maybe not as silly as the woman talking about how much better the ACA is than Obamacare, but I was pretty embarrassed.

I suppose my point was that at least I didn’t mind admitting that I didn’t know something rather than trying to bluff my way through it. I could have nodded and sipped my wine and googled the book later. But pretending like you know something you really don’t is pretty stupid.

Can’t Afford To Get Married? Just Fake Being Engaged!

Can’t Afford To Get Married? Just Fake Being Engaged!

Oh, Jezebel. Normally I love you, but this article is d-u-m-b.

I have grappled with the correct word to refer to Chris for years. (We are approaching a dozen years together and are very, very happily unmarried. We save money on taxes and the hippie wackadoo deep inside of me doesn’t have to feel icky about getting a license from the state for our relationship.) It has never occurred to me to just call him my fiance because…that’s not what that word means.

I have, maybe two or three times in my life, referred to him as my husband when it was really just easier and I was talking to strangers and it didn’t matter. Once was when he had been pulled out for extra screening by TSA and someone asked me why I was loitering around the check area.

But usually ‘partner’ is fine, if a bit clinical. More often than not, here’s a crazy idea, I just refer to him by his name. Even if someone hasn’t met him, if I say “Oh yeah, Chris loves that band, we saw them in concert last summer,” whoever I’m talking to will surely just infer that this is My Person. I’ve never had someone look at me quizically and ask “Sooooo is that your roommate? Boyfriend? Husband? Gay guy pal?”

Anyways. I have been reading a lot of Jezebel lately and liking a lot of what they put out there. But this is pretty silly.