I have managed to evade this 25 things meme that has infected Facebook. But now I have been officially tagged by Ms. Perry, who can–I believe–see Sarah Palin’s house from her back yard. And so, I am cheating, and following Liz Lawley (who was following Julian Dibble), on a 25 things with an obvious twist:
1. I got my head but my head is unraveling; can’t keep control, can’t keep track of where it’s traveling.
2. I know what I know.
3. We all invent ourselves and, uh, you know me.
4. It was many years ago I became what I am.
5. I want to learn such simple things–no politics, no history–till what I want and what I need can finally be the same.
6. It’s always the same: I’m running towards nothing, again and again and again.
7. I want this bliss but something says I must resist.
8. Nothing ever happens, and I wonder.
9. If you want me, you can find me: left of center.
10. I want a girl with uninterrupted prosperity, who uses a machete to cut through red tape, with fingernails that shine like justice.
11. I must react to claims of those who say that you are not all that.
12. Oh, let me be your teddy bear.
13. I’m on a road to nowhere.
14. I am the passenger.
15. I prefer you behind the wheel, and me the passenger.
16. I’m finding it harder to be a gentleman every day.
17. Sex and drugs and rock and roll is all my brain and body need.
18. I can’t help the feeling I could blow through the ceiling.
19. Oops. I did it again.
20. I’m on the pavement, thinkin’ about the government.
21. I’m like a stepping razor, don’t you watch my size, I’m dangerous.
22. I’m on my way I’m making it, huh!
23. They got a name for people like me, too: El Macho.
24. I know it’s gonna happen someday, to you.
25. I’d rather be whistling in the dark.
Gripe: Stop breaking my car
Several weeks ago, I parked my car in LGA long term parking. Maybe that was my first mistake. Someone ran into the car, taking off the trim on the rear bumper. By the time I got in, fairly late at night, the keyless entry wouldn’t let me in. I assume it had set off the alarm, and the alarm had blocked entry somehow.
Today, having parked the car while getting lunch and doing a little shopping in Jersey, came out to find four adult-sized footprint across the hood, with the last one at the bottom of a prodigious dent.
Now, I’m really not too fussy about physical things. I think I’ve got my priorities in line. I get upset about real injustices, but I think of myself as lucky, or blessed, or something, and happy with whatever I have. If I had less physical stuff, I think I would be pretty OK with that. But I find it upsetting that people are willing to just break others’ stuff and not bother to leave a note and, frankly, to pay for it.
That somewhat anarchist part of me says “why so big on personal property” but the truth is, I would feel the same about it if it wasn’t mine, and maybe even more strongly if it were communally held. Heck, if the destruction were intentional, and that intent was to send a message that my Volkswagon is an affront to those who are unable to own cars, or something–or anything!–other than simply disrespect for strangers, I think I would be OK with it. But the complete lack of any feeling of responsibility to the unknown stranger (me!) bugs me.
There’s my rant. I’m not looking forward to a couple thousand dollars worth of repairs simply to support several people’s lack of respect for what was once a very attractive car. Grumble.
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