...It's The Other People.

When I was living at home and my driving time relied mostly on my ability to wheedle the car keys away from Ma and Dad, I got a certain line a lot. That line was usually in response to Rainmanesque declarations that I was an EXCELLENT driver, and the line was, "it's not you I worry about, it's the other people."

As I get older, there are more and more phrases that I thought my parents made up that have gained a lot of credibility. Today was a good example of the Other People On The Road Principle, not that there's ever a shortage of exhibits when you have a half hour commute on two major highways that starts in Holden ("A town 1741, a town packed full of crazy-ass drivers, 1742."). But this was a particularly good one given the pure idiocy of it all and the contagion it seemed to have.

An SUV sort of halfheartedly cut me off on 290...I had to apply brakes, but not slam them on. Look, the fast lane, in the morning, on 290, is generally about 80 miles an hour. Be ready for it. And no matter what road you're on at what time, if you're getting into the fast lane? SPEED. UP. Don't get into the lane about four feet off someone's front bumper and then go 5 miles slower than EVERYONE ELSE IN THE LANE. So anyway, this dope cuts me off, and sigh a lot, throw my hands in the air, and glare at their rearview, fine. They hop back out of the lane, then into the far right lane, then into the middle lane again, and I think, "you idiot."

Just before the 495 exit, I see them headed for the far left lane again. This time, they cut off another SUV, by even less distance. Wanted to be a hood ornament, is my point. Brakes go on, and I assume that SUV number two did the same cranky dance that I did, then swerved HARD into the middle lane. And kept pace with the Cut Off SUV. And then cut THEM off. At which point they hopped into the middle lane. And kept pace with the Cutee SUV. It was great, like watching dogfighting. This continued until I could barely see them from my standpoint waiting to get onto 495, and just as I lost sight of them, I saw an angry little hand fly out of the Cutee SUV, middle finger extended. I can only assume that it only got more awesome from that point forward.

I don't know what it is about driving that makes people so crazy. I'm not talking about bonehead moves, I'm talking about the legitimately nuts, all-crazy-all-the-time, batshit drivers who are incapable of driving in a reasonable kind of way. Everyone has gone a little too fast because they were going to miss an exit, or not used their blinker, or cut someone off, or any number of ditzy little mistakes. But then you have the driver who cannot adjust speed appropriately, and is allergic to their blinker, and never stays in one lane longer than three seconds. Those people scare the hell out of me, because I could be doing everything right, and still get Smreked into a guardrail or off a cliff or whatever. I guess the fam was right...it's the other people you gotta worry about.

In other things that bother me, I was toodling around the other night and came across a blog entry from an ex of mine, pissing and moaning about not getting a call back from me around the holidays, after I had TOLD him that I was going to be cutting communication. Which I most likely should have done immediately after he dumped me. Or cheated on me. Or went through a multiple month relationship telling me he loved me exactly once. Or any number of reasons I SHOULD have told him to go fuck himself, but ignored in the name of civility. So! Aggravating! You only make yourself look like a douchebag when you ignore the facts of the case and then go on to piss and moan about how I done you wrong. "Oh, wah, when someone who told you she was going to cut communication doesn't return a phone call, it makes it so hard to be civil 'in the future times'," like, what does that even MEAN, and by the way, YOU DUMPED ME FOR SOMEONE ELSE, YOU RIDICULOUS ASS! I know it's all poetic and shit in your head, but let me tell you this - we do not live in a romance novel. If she was a flaming c-word before, she'll do it again, and she did, didn't she.

You know what, he's right. I didn't call him back, because I have an entire life that has exactly jack shit to do with him, that gets disrupted when he tries to shove his foot in the door to keep me as an option - which is what he's doing, whether he realizes it or not, because that's how he relates to women - that he doesn't deserve to have any part in. Besides the black and white obnoxiousness of it all, there's the fact that all of this crap comes from a completely unconcious and completely off-putting superiority place. Get some therapy. Get some emotional maturity. Get some flexibility. You're fucking fired.

God, I don't know why that pisses me off so much, but it does. Tried to be nice, tried to forget the incredible burning hurt of that breakup, tried to be civil because we have friends in common - and I still will be, if the occasion calls for it - but seriously. What I get in return is "right, but besides the breakup where I stomped on your heart and made you not want to eat for a week, what did I do that was so wrong" and whining about why I won't talk to him. Cut me a break.

Speed was right, as he always is. I don't know why I am so goddamn stubborn sometimes, all "but we can all get along" with every single person I meet. Blah blah blah believing everyone is good, well maybe it's time for me to drop the damn idealism and start getting that some people are conniving, soul-sucking assclowns who will only ever make you feel shitty about yourself. AUGH.

Oh, NICE.

In the midst of writing this, the douchenozzle of a contractor we have been trying to talk sense into but who REFUSES TO READ WORDS just faxed us something that's supposed to prove the burner he installed meets efficiency standards, and all it does if prove exactly the opposite. So I call him, gently explain to him that it doesn't work, and he hangs up on me. I hate people hanging up on me more than almost any other social faux pas...it makes me teeter ever closer to the brink of homicidal behavior. Hate hate hate! Here's what the MANUFACTURER'S SPECS say about what it takes to reach an 86.1% Annual Fuel Utilization Efficiency and thus, eligibility for the program:

*Chart saying the gallons per hour needs to be 0.60 with an asterisk next to the figure*

Asterisk says: Nozzles for these firing rates not provided as standard equipment. Consult factory for price and availability.

Above the asterisk: "Peerless provides Beckett burners as standard equipment. Contact factory for availability of Wayne, Carlin and Reillo burners."

On manufacturer's website: "This firing rate can only be achieved with a Riello F-3 burner. Consult Peerless for details."

And yet, he believes that we are taking kickbacks from Riello to promote their burners. WE DO NOT CARE! We just want you out of our lives! Christ! He's hung up on me once, Receptionista twice, and The Boss Man twice.

I have a feeling this is going to be an immensely long day...and my honey isn't even going to be home until late. BOO MONDAY.