Tag Archives: bitch

Day 2: This is a Toast for the Douchebags.

Standard

Day 2: This is a Toast for the Douchebags.

Today, I was sitting at a red light, windows down, the hot summer and the music of the person next to me drifting through my car. It was the overplayed Chris Brown, “throw your glass in the air and say yeah” song. I could feel him drilling a hole in the side of my head, so I looked over, gave him an awkward half smile, and turned back to the light. The music got louder and then he began flipping through his ipod, playing half-second intros until he landed on nothing other than “Your Sex is on Fire”.

I looked back at him with a puzzled look, thinking it could only be sweet serendipity. Oh, no – I was wrong. I got the’ hey girl’ head nod and that lip curl that you see in photos when people are holding up their ice or showing their glocks.

The light changed, and of course my little Accord beat his oversized truck up the hill. I sped away, laughing at my little sitcom moment.

So today, I’m thankful for the douchebags, and thankful for the assholes. And even the scumbags, every one of them that I know… And I know a few.

Because without them, who would keep the #GTL hash tag alive? Who would make my girlfriends and I feel good about our asses? Whose grammar would I correct? (I do get a sick pleasure out of that). Whose abs would I stare at to pass time on the treadmill?

As in every balanced ecosystem, they have their place. Sure, they’re a bit confused – like the bird that flies into a closed window. At first you feel kind of bad… but mostly, it’s just funny. And the best part is, they never get the joke.

So thanks, douchebags. You bring me a lot of joy.

Advertisements

Flip a bitch.

Standard

Driving today, enjoying some Lilly Allen, I took a left turn, and ended up about 15 miles south of the right turn I should have made before I noticed. I was on a divided highway and couldn’t turn around. Next exit: 5 miles. Five miles of knowingly driving the wrong way after 15 minutes of unknowingly driving the wrong direction. It made my eye twitch.

Because that’s a frustrating thing, to be driving on a road, going in a direction you don’t want to be headed, and be told you are not allowed to turn around. I did what most people in my situation would have. I examined the height of the median, weighed the consequences, and “flipped a bitch” as the saying goes. Nothing damaged, no cops chasing me, I carried on my merry way.

And I thought,’that was easy’. And it was. I’m sure I broke a few laws, but I saved 5 miles each way. Or rather, didn’t lose it.

So, of course I’m leading to a big, sweeping analogy, because that’s how I make sense of the world and my decisions in it. Here it is:

I drove 15 minutes the wrong direction without even noticing. I was driving. I should have my license revoked at least. But how often do we do this? Keep moving forward with the lowest possible level of consciousness to get us by, a lot of times knowing it isn’t right. Our jobs, relationships, diet, lifestyles, and all of the choices we consistently seem to forget we are actually making. Nothing is just the way it is. We are making the choice every day.

So the next part of that is turning off the radio and tuning in to our lives. Being aware of all of the things happening around us. Making an effort to check in on the people we care about. Making an effort to check in with ourselves. Taking that cooking class, going on that jog, buying that dress that we’ve had our eye on.

We are exposed to countless stimulus constantly throughout our day. We are driven by timeframes and deadlines and the expectations of our bosses, our friends, our lovers, our family and our culture. Often, it feels like we are being pushed by a momentum we can’t control.

But just remember whose foot is on the gas.

If only every decision in life was so simple as flipping a bitch. If only when we felt like we felt like we were going the wrong direction, we took a moment to think about it and then we just turned around. If only people didn’t get hurt in the process, our money was safe and we had insurance on our decisions.

But, we don’t. And that’s scary.

But it might be more scary to wake up behind the wheel one day and not even know that we were the one driving the entire time. So, if the urge strikes you, flip a bitch.