fill iN the blaNk fRiday: schoolgRRRl

i'm sure this is fully open for interpretation, so i'm filling in according to high school, because i barely remember my "college" days, more from working at least two jobs while i was there than any kind of partying, and because it wasn't really college, rather full-time business school. kind of takes the fun college experience part out of the whole scenario. so.

1. The best thing about being in school was: seeing my friends (almost) every day. and i would have to say that the worst part of "growing up" is NOT seeing them every day. i'm not exactly a social butterfly, but i do love me some fri-ends!

2. The worst thing about being in school was: teachers telling me what to do. i've never really dealt well with micromanagement, and this was my first understanding of that fact. i believe "fiercely independent" is what often comes out of my mouth when trying to explain myself. you'd never imagine the offense that was taken once when i used it to explain to my date (whom i had asked out) why i was going to, at the very least, go dutch on lunch. whoa - back to the question! my immediate memory of this feeling was a teacher yelling at me to put my shoes on while walking down the hallway. it was pretty freaking normal for me to not wear shoes, so why did it bother him that one time? doesn't matter; his threats were ineffective.

3. My favorite subject in school was: art. is art like gym, where people will argue that it's not a class? it sure was for me! the structure of our art room, being complete lack thereof, was much more akin to my taste, and i spent more time there than anywhere else, despite lacking any focus or drive in my projects. all i know is the peace i felt while throwing pots or getting my hands filthy with pastels or joking as my friends and i drew each other over and over and over again. peace, i tell you!

4. One subject I wish I could have mastered is: french. all is not lost! i may still give that one a shot. you'd think, after taking three years of it, that i'd have more than a vague recognition (no, not an understanding!) of words. 

5.  I could never get tired of studying: hmmm. i think i'm learning that i tire of just about everything... not so sure that there would be a subject i could stick with. we never had any type of mythology, sociology, or psychology class when i was in high school, but i'm pretty intrigued my the way people work - and think all of these subjects have something to do with that - and so i think that my curiosity could be quite satisfied with unlimited glimpses into these concepts.

6. The most memorable teacher I had was: i can't pick just one, but they were all science teachers. mr. hall had (still has) a crazy mustache, took us on a geology hike, and sold beer at the stadium in the summer. mr. pellis had red hair, a red face, and a loud voice, with which he yelled at me quite often, which i deserved, and loved him for even more.  mr. schreiber... ah, mr. schreiber. he was unbalanced, hilarious, occasionally violent (in a somehow funny way), and oh-so-easy to get off topic. mr. fredericks was our little chemistry teacher that we absolutely tortured but eventually won over. he's such a perfect dork that he has a comic strip about... maybe some chemistry stuff because it's so over my head but hilarious anyway! the problem with all of these great guys: i didn't learn a damn. thing.

7. If I could choose between going to school for the rest of my life or working for the rest of my life, I'd choose probably going to school. it's easier to change your mind, switch gears, and study something new than it is to change careers. that's my final answer.

ok, i'm paying atteNtioN!

last night i got to see ani difranco in a small club - finally, after all these years (more on that another time)! we followed the great show with a drink at the double wide grill and i got a very late start on my 40-minute drive home, 5 hours before my alarm would be going off this morning.

circumstances led me to be in the wrong place at just after the wrong time... and i can't stop thinking about how i ended up there.

the highway exit to my home is taken at very high speeds by most drivers, myself included, even though there are houses and businesses nearly kissing the blind corner of the "ramp" (read residential street, complete with sidewalk). i often think to myself, "self, be glad that the people that live here know to never step foot out of their front doors for fear of death, because we all drive like megajerks." as i was approaching this exit at 1:15 this morning, i could see a flashing yellow light just around the corner and slowed down, thinking it was most likely just some more construction. never did i expect to see a taxi in the middle of the road with it's four doors flung open (blocking the exit) and flashers on. well, really - even that wouldn't have been so odd for the 'quip. what i really didn't expect to see was the front end of a motorcycle peeking around the front of the taxi, lying on the road.

still not fully comprehending the situation, i slowly continued past the exit to later turn around and come back the other way to get home. that's when i saw the taxi driver and passenger standing, looking at the man lying face down on the road next to the bike... i panicked - i didn't see anything happen, the driver was on his cell phone, and what could i possibly do to help?? i continued driving past, feeling guilty that i didn't stop and replaying the scene in my head uncontrollably.

and what i really couldn't stop thinking about was the fact that i shouldn't have even been there; i shouldn't have seen that. i stayed out far later then i had intended, then forgot how to get myself to the other highway i had wanted to take home, got stuck behind a large "construction vehicle," and in my impatience, crossed the river to go home the longer yet faster-since-i-could-pass-any-slow-moving-vehicles way only to be blockaded for a mile or two by two slow-moving large vehicles (come on, truckers - i really thought you had more courtesy than that!). to think: if i had just gone home right away, if i had been more awake/less silly brainless and had been able to go home the right way, if i hadn't been impatient... i never would have been here. then to think: if i hadn't been detained a second time... it might have been me behind the wheel of the car that mutilated that motorcycle and its driver...

all of these thoughts as i'm driving slowly - confusedly - home, with police cars and fire trucks quietly speeding to the scene of the accident. i almost wished they were using their sirens; it was all too quiet and surreal. as i approached my final turn, the street light above me went out. this is nothing new to me; i've taken such things in my past as small omens and moved on. but last night... i thought, "ok, i'm paying attention!"

hopefully i can make a real change to my historically cranky, impatient, slightly aggressive driving habits... leave home a couple of minutes early so i'm not in a rush, acknowledge and then ignore the impulsive need to drive faster than everyone around me, take a deep breath and let go when stupid drivers do stupid things, and take that exit at a life-saving speed from now on.

i only swore once today on my 25-mile commute to work - that's major progress already!