i'm about to blow

I've been holding it all in for 2 1/2 weeks now. I hope you're ready for a LOT of complaining over the next few weeks. I'm afraid to open my reader as the feeds have piled up like crazy. Real life awaits!

Here's a start....

First, why do Americans insist on vacationing with fanny packs, ill-fitting shorts and white running shoes? Has Paris Hilton or some other drivelling waif started wearing a fanny pack and thus granted a rebirth (or should I say "birth" in this case) of cool? Is material bunching up around your bum the new sexy? Is there a loafer/sandal/flip-flop/mary jane detector at the airport that forces all Americans to leave their good shoes in the bin where all the liquids and gels go? Perhaps when I was busy complaining I missed an important update from Mr. Blackwell.

Second, what is it about me that makes people want to dish? Seriously. I meet people for like two minutes and suddenly, I know how they're voting, what kind of underwear they used to wear, what they wear now and what they're considering wearing, not to mention how they miscarried in their junior year. The most alarming story I heard on this trip was from a Vietnam vet who wanted to dish about all the people he killed in the war. I swear I wasn't wearing fatigues, carrying a book about war, burning Country Joe and the Fish albums, or muttering expletives about Asians. At least, no more than usual.

Third, what could ever possess someone in North America to consciously make the choice to live with another adult and five (count 'em, five) children between the ages of 20 months and 10 in a--wait for it--400 square foot condo? So I've been to Asia and I know that that kind of population density isn't exactly abnormal in some parts of the world, but the thing is, the people who made this choice weren't brought up in those necks-of-the-woods. As if that isn't enough, they homeschool the kids in that apartment. The four that are semi-self-sufficient are turning into cats. They roam randomly, sleep in other people's houses (or, at least, I hope they were at houses), and show up now and then to get fed. More than once when I was there, mom was talking to one of the kids and that kid turned out to not be there, or anywhere near there. Puzzling, possibly disturbing.

Finally, what's with the crummy winter this year? We've gotten a record-breaking amount of snow and it shows no signs of letting up. I'm going to keep hibernating with my stack of books, rejoicing in my losing streak at scrabulous. Damn my sister and her tile expertise! I'm also cursing Sunny for leading me down this garden path to intense embarassment. Maybe I can get the six-year-old next door (the one who plays Silent Night) to join me in a game so I can beat someone and feel better about myself. Plus, she can't play the piano if she's playing Scrabble, right?

RainyBow