Ohdeoh doe-dee-oh-doe

"Hey! Psst! Wake up!" I hear my sister as she pokes me, waking me from an exceptionally sound sleep. So much so that at first, I wasn't sure where I was.
Chico's on me in an instant now, since I've stirred in response to my sister's pokes. I roll over, expecting it to be important.
"Do you have any ideas for dinner?" My sister asks.
"Huh?"
"Did you have any ideas what to make?"
"Did you look in the fridge? What've we got," I'm thinking this is pretty simple stuff.
"Well, unless you wanto have frozen burritos for dinner, I'm not sure what do make."
"How 'bout those franks?" I ask, fending off Chico, who's busy licking my face.
"I don't know if they're any good," my sister answered warily.
"What's the date on them?"
"I don't even know if they have a date on them," she says.
"Did you look?"
"Not really," and with that, she left me be.
I tried to roll over and resume my nap but to no avail. I was awake. Shit. Such a waste of my time.
But you know what? There's bigger fish to fry. Like my driving.
"You're afraid, aren't you?" Jim asked.
He'd hit the nail on the head.
"Well don't be. It's supposed to be fun," he said, "Half your problem is learning to relax, you know."
I merely nodded. He's right. At first he thought maybe it was because I couldn't take any criticism. (I'd get shaken every time he let me know I'd screwed something up. But he'd told me so that I'd learn from it.)
We're supposed to go driving again this evening after he finishes taking care of the 'Boy Wonder', who wanted to have a cookout. ("If he's buying the meat, I'm not arguing.") And I've just now realized that my cell phone must still be up in the Summer Home. I can only hope he calls the house phone if he decides to call first before coming over. Or that he'll just come over. Otherwise were looking at a potential fuck-up in communication.

I worry too much, don't I?

A Fistful of Steering Wheel

Did some night driving for the first time ever. Jim tells me my nervousness is very palpable. If I could just calm down, things would go better.

"Steer! Take another right. Okay now go. Come on, it's 25 through here. Would you relax? Here. Pull over a minute."

Why do I get myself so worked up over this? I tell him that I want so badly to get it right that it flusters me hugely when I fuck up. So the one bad turn I had way back just built up, making new fuck ups cuz I never let the first fuck up go. Jim pointed out to me that people fuck up! Big deal! Get over it! He tells me that if I continue to live my life that way, I'll never get anything done in life and it'd be a miserable life at that.
"I can tell you're nervous. Why? Hell, when I got mine I was so excited. You had to tie my feet down to keep me from flyin' away."

On the way back:
"STEER! You keep wanting to make every turn a square turn. Turns are ROUND. Try drawing up an intersection. Sleep in tomorrow and draw up an intersection. Get familiar with what you're doing when you take a turn. Maybe even come out here and sit in the car. Ain't nobody gonna tell you you can't. Sit in it. Get to know where things are." (I couldn't tell him what side the gas was on and had trouble finding mom's high-beams) "Tomorrow we'll take 'er out again and get you going on those turns. Cuz until you get those down, we ain't touching parallel parking."

Well--
I'm a Class A Fuck up. But for some reason, Jim thinks I can do it. I guess I'm just lacking the basic common sense that most people have.
"You've got it," Jim argued, "You just don't know how to use it yet."

So I'm supposed to sleep in and relax. He wants me relaxed when we go driving again today.

I'm Huge in Japan

You tell 'em Tom.

Well, school has officially started at the UWP. And the Art Building is still in the midst of remodeling. The contractors plow onward while the profs play musical classrooms, looking for a suitable place to have class. Thank your Art Club, kids! They wanted changes-- They got 'em! Little did they know how badly the University'd drag their ass on this one.

I'm hugely jealous of Noelle who just recently messaged me with her outstanding news: She now has her license!
---- Rather than jealousy, I should be inspired by this. -----

"I'm gonna join the circus/Cuz that's where I belong/So I went to Coney Island/singing this song." --Table Top Joe

Valium, Tom Waits, and Ice Cream

Took a drive up north. Beautiful day for a ride. I drove, Jim rode in the passenger seat. I about got us killed a couple times. He kept urging me to pick up the pace. It's okay to go 60 in a 55. Gotta keep up with the traffic. And when you take a turn give it gas and git er done. Come to think of it, that's the phrase I heard most: "Giver some gas." I'm too contemplative when I drive and don't react as quickly as I ought to. Wonder if I brained my damage and just don't know it yet.
The Dynasty was just recently-as of this past Friday(9.02.05)-designated as my 'driving car'. I'm to use it to learn & stood a good chance of being able to buy it. HOWEVER---
When we return, I find out from my sister that my Dad's going to get rid of the Dynasty if I don't get my license in 2 weeks. Oh no pressure there. FUCK. And Jim wants me to work more on hiway driving before he figures I'll be ready for in-town street manuevers. Shit. I'll never get it in time. Nope. No pressure.
ANYway, I succeeded in making myself a nervous wreck and now I'm trying to 'medicate' with ice cream, Tom Waits and I'm thinking about popping a Sominex.
Some people just really ought not drive. Perhaps there's a reason why I failed my driver's test. Jim assures me I did okay. Gotta get back on the proverbial horse and try again.
I'm finding out that Tom Waits is good "Bummed out" Music. It's bluesy, but not sickeningly bluesy. It's a sort of bluesy Bob Dylan-ish with a slightly experimental twist. But this is only Mule Variations I've listened to so far.

Blank Stare and a Whisper

I'm supposed to be writing. And really-- I got close to 5 pages today. Which is good, non? Maybe I'll write more tonight.

I'd fallen in love with Dove milk chocolate candy bars from the vending machine at work. My mother assures me I should give the Dove dark chocolate a try because dark chocolate by default is better than milk chocolate.(In her esteemed opinion) So she buys me a bag of Dove Promises, but they're dark chocolate. Which are yummy. Don't get me wrong. But I still believe the milk chocolate is equally tasty. If not more so.

I also cleaned up the kitchen. So I suppose today was not without its accomplishments. But I did take quite a nap this afternoon. I can't believe it's headed for 6 already.
I can think of nothing else constructive, so I'll stop here before I write an asnine and/or boring blog.