* sometimes i will wake at 3 p.m., see sunlight, and decide to try again at 5 p.m.
* i am still afraid of basements.
* that some people still have their seventh grade cheerleading patches.
* that this is the sort of internal conversation i have:
me: "one of my tires seems low. i wonder if i can get to eden prairie with a half-flat tire?"
other me: "i'm sure it's fine. other people probably don't fill their tires, either, and you rarely hear about someone's tire falling off their car on thanksgiving."
me: "maybe that's because other people don't let their tires get low and you are really just the most irresponsible person on the planet?"
other me: "but what if i put too much air in it and it explodes and there is wheel debris all over the ghetto spur?"
me: "that doesn't happen to people either."
other me: "maybe that's because most people know how to read a tire gauge."
me: "touche."
* how to read a tire gauge
* that i wish that lynn rosetto casper and i were better friends.
* that if i think i should wear a belt, i probably should.
* a six year old can beat me at battleship.
* so can her dad.
* its the trouncing by the six year old that stings worse.
* i live a very quiet life and so when i'm surrounded by more than once voice at a time, it causes sensory overload.
* that an episode of "this american life" can really take the edge off of that span of highway between rush city and sandstone.
* that after spending an entire day in the car, chuck's couch [and chuck] feels a lot like a pretty posh resort.
* gas station string cheese does not need to be refrigerated.
* that even though i am the self proclaimed tv marathon champion, i can handle no more than three consecutive episodes of "reaper."
* that no matter how long i watch this, i cannot get myself to think it is a good idea.
5 comments:
i thought the exact same thing about my tire, in maybe the exact same place. we should have totally carpooled. maybe xmas?
totally. keep me posted on your plans. i like you more than lynn rosetto casper and ira glass back to back.
My tire blew out driving to the Cities. I was almost to my parents' house, so for about two miles, I drove on the rim. I don't remember an internal conversation. My mom yelled at me, though.
Then I was going to call a tow truck to get a new tire put on. She said, "You know how to change a tire!" And I said, "No I don't." And she said, "Yes you do!" And I said, "No I don't." And she said, "Yes you do!" And then she made my dad put on the spare so I could drive to the tire store.
Like you, my life is rather quiet. By this morning, I was more than ready to escape the family fun fest and get onto the road so I could hear myself think again.
This American Life solves all kinds of problems. I have to pull up a podcast in order to survive doing laundry.
Post a Comment