Speeding (It's bad, so they tell me)

I want to thank the state trooper that pulled me over Friday night. Not that I wanted a ticket. Truly that is not the case. I also didn't want to go to jail and I was REALY speeding. Not quite Kyle Bush through Mooresville (128 MPH) but it wasn't 5 MPH over either.

It wasn't my fault!

It was 2am and there were no other cars on the road and my husband was mumbling about something that I couldn't hear because the concert we had been to made us deaf (apparently I'm OLD).

Course none of that gets you out of a ticket and since I can't cry on cue I have to rely on my honesty. So again I say thank you. I do appreciate my freedom and the reduced ticket.

I openly admit I have issues with speed. (I once got 2 speeding tickets in one day. Apparently I'm a slow learner.) Mostly I try and keep my need for speed in check by just getting off the line faster than everyone else but every once and a while I can't help myself.

So if you see a crazy lady next to you at a red light and it looks like she thinks it's a race please forgive me. I have a problem. I am trying to get help.

sassy in the south

Yesterday while I was waiting to pick up my son from school one of the other moms explained to me that I had recently met a classmate's mother without realizing it. There was some discussion and finally I was described as "the sassy one". My immediate reaction was to laugh at the Southerness of the word but then I thought about it.

I remember a friend telling me that every time a Southerner says "bless your heart." it's because they think you are insane and that is the only polite way to say it. It so stuck in my head that when people say this to me I have to resist the urge to sneer at them.

The point of this ramble is that Sassy doens't really mean Sassy. Sassy means Bitch but most people down South are just to darn polite to say that out loud. I on the other hand have no reservation about the word. I embrace it and all of it's implications.

HELL YEAH I AM A BITCH. I would say with a capitol B but apparently it is in all caps.

I guess my point here is that although I think there is certainly a politeness discrepancy between the North and the South it is a lot smaller than most think. The South has just learned to be sneakier about calling you out.

My Love Hate Relationship with Legos.

Whoever invented Legos is awesome. I mean seriously ass kicking awesome.

He should get an award. (at this point in my rant my curiosity is piqued and I am tempted to google who created Legos but I push that down and get back to my crazy).

My son can spend hours making new "creations" and anything that isn't a video game or a TV show is a welcome activity in my house. Sometimes he even writes little books about his Lego creations. Kind of like a superhero backstory.

So I love them. With all my heart for all the creativity they foster.

BUT

I hate them. Seriously with a passion that involves cursing and screaming. I LOATHE THEM

They are everywhere. 

Under the couch, on the stairs. In my bed, hiding in the plush bedroom rugs. And everyday I manage to find them while I walk through my house barefoot. Those sharp little corners digging into my foot causing me to suddenly list to one side worse than the Edmund Fitzgerald!

Why? What did I ever do to them to deserve this kind of treatment?

If you're a logical person right about now you are yelling at me to wear shoes or make my wonderful son clean them up (he does for the most part but remember they are sneaky!), and sure that would fix the problem but I don't like wearing shoes inside.

Not for some cleanliness reason or anything cultural, I just like wandering around my house letting my toes hang out.

So sure I could fix this problem but I refuse! My personal freedom is worth the pain and suffering.

Instead I will continue to both love and hate Legos in all their sharp edged multicolored glory.