To make my commute even more fabulous this morning, I had to deal with Mr. Bus-Driver-Off-His-Meds.

So there I am, driving down I-5 in the right lane, minding my own business, when Metro comes in from the on-ramp. He needs to merge, but there’s plenty of room behind me, so I don’t really pay any attention. I just keep doing what I’m doing, which is following pretty close to the car in front of me, since I’m taking the next exit and we aren’t going that fast anyway.

It becomes apparent that Busman doesn’t want to pull his enormous rig into the equally enormous space behind me, and that he instead plans to just merge right on top of me, absorbing my car in his carelessness. This annoys me, but he is about 30 times bigger than me, so I start to slow down.

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One of these days, I’m going to get a taco from one of those silver buses that are always parked in gas station parking lots advertising their 79-cent tacos.

I’m going to eat that taco, and I’m going to live to tell about it.

But that’s not all.

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I guess it’s not so much that I’ll be skipping Christmas, but it will certainly be unlike any Christmas I’ve ever had.

It’s long been my dream to just get away from it all for Christmas. Spend it in a tropical location where I don’t have to worry about all the junk that comes with the holiday. This year, my wish comes true! I’m sure it won’t be everything I hope it will be. It’ll have problems I don’t anticipate, and benefits I didn’t expect. Whatever happens, it will be different, and that’s exactly what I need this year. 

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In honor of a day spent with Carol, the Texan expat returned for one short weekend in the middle of a vast sea of Carollessness, here are ten of my favorite Carol-induced travel memories, in no particular order:

1. Freezing to death in Central Park, despite the furry deerstalker hats.

2. Becoming addicted to Webkinz in Huntsville, and then spending large chunks of the day glued to separate computers.

3. Entering our hotel room at the Paramount in NYC and learning that our room’s magnificently large art canvas headboard was blank.

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THE BLACK FRIDAY CHRONICLES  11.23.07

Log Book:

0307 - Awakened by team leader, code name Mom. Didn’t set alarm, because knew Mom would accomplish task.

0310 – Geared up in “I’d Rather Be Punching You” shirt and comfortable shoes.

0331 - Heated up leftover green bean casserole. Dumped in coffee mug for mobile sustenance needs. Set off with Mom for rendezvous with rest of team.

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Top 10 Turkey Day Traditions ‘Round Here:

10. An array of more food than could ever be consumed by a small army. But there are surprisingly few leftovers. Oink!

9. Grab a plate from one of the many tables set up (each with a different themed table setting) and chow down at the buffet-style meal. Grabbing a plate saves your seat. And the kids’ table is the cool table.

8. Eat around 1:00pm, lament the inability to close the top button on your pants, and then continue to graze for the rest of the day.

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As much as I love my mom and am inexpressibly thankful for how she and Ed have let me live in their house and be a total mooch for many months now, I am SO looking forward to having my house sell, and being able to spend that mortgage money on rent for a place of my own.

I’ve never lived alone for more than a week. That’s a pretty sad fact for a so-called grown up, but it’s true. I’ve never had a place truly mine, and only mine. No parents, no roommates, no husbands or anyone of any kind. Just me. Just mine.

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And we’re back.

(If you have no idea what I’m talking about and think I’ve lost my mind, you might be right. But first read yesterday’s blog entry, as it might clear up at least the first part.)

The enneagram types are placed around a circle in a particular order, with lines and arrows going every which way. If you want to know the details, read the book or look online or something (if you do look online, you’ll notice that some of the type names are different — Mediator is called Peacemaker, for example).

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On a whim, I got a book from the library (shocking, I know) called The Essential Enneagram. It’s basically a skinny little book that tells you about your personality. There were two things that struck me about this enneagram thing, as opposed to the jillion other personality tests I’ve taken.

First is the way it explains how the different personality types are related to each other, which I’ll get to later.

The other thing is the basic proposition of the whole thing. Each of the types is defined by the fundamental principle this person has lost sight of, what she came to believe instead, and the strategy she developed to cope with this belief. Again, I’ll explain more later.

First, a little overview.

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Why would anyone wear plain white socks, or plain black socks, or plain any-color socks when there are so many fun socks out there just begging to be put on your feet?

Just walking through the Trouser Socks aisle of JC Penney makes me itchy and nervous. If I ever have a job that requires not only trousers but a special kind of boring sock to accompany them, that will be the day I weep for my lost youth.

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