This is how people end up jumping out of planes

Two friends

Two friends (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I was talking with some friends the other day.  We hadn’t spoken in a while, and we were comparing all the exciting developments in our lives.  Friend #1, a gorgeous blonde who compounds the offense by being both smart and nice, says “I just gave birth to my third child!”  This after posting a picture of herself on Facebook with said child while wearing a sheath dress and sporting a perfect tan.  Hate her.  No, I don’t.

Friend #2, a sexy dark-eyed brunette with lips people go through multiple painful surgeries to emulate, says “I just got promoted!  I’m now running the company I started working for when we graduated from school!”  I have her Christmas card in my apartment.  It has a picture of her with her huge, loving, crazy, amazing family all mugging cheerfully for the camera while seated around a truly fantastic-looking dinner table.  Hate her.  No, I don’t.  She sends me cookies.

Friend #3, another brunette with incredible light eyes that show up like stars against her dark skin, confides “It’s been four years since I was widowed.  I thought I would never love again, but I’ve found someone wonderful, and we’re getting married this fall!  It’s been a kind of miracle, the kids love him just as much as I do.  I’m so glad they’ll have a father-figure they really care about.”  Can’t hate her.  Really happy for her.

So then they all ask me what’s been going on in my life.  And there’s just nothing.  I’ve been scrounging around in my brain during the entire conversation, trying to come up with something, and I’ve got nothing.  What do I do?  Make something up?  Tell them about how I read the Hunger Games trilogy in one day?  I’m on the spot, and having a bad hair day to boot, and I blurt out “My blog got Freshly Pressed!”  Crickets.  Well-meaning, supportive crickets, but crickets nevertheless.  Finally, Friend #1 (and this is why I can’t hate her) says “That’s great that you’re still keeping a blog, honey!  I’ve always thought that’s so brave.”

And I thought:  That’s it, I’m going skydiving!

With this LBG, I thee wed

Engagement Ring

Engagement Ring (Photo credit: Lucas_James)

A friend of mine is getting married.  Yay!  And you know her, if you read the blog closely, but I’m not allowed to announce it formally yet.  Cue the crying, hugging, dancing around, promising we’ll always be friends even after she’s got a live-in boy, etc.  Then comes the important discussion:

Me:  What are you thinking as far as the ceremony?

Friend:  I’m kind of torn.  Courthouse is very tempting, but my family would be really hurt if they couldn’t participate in a traditional wedding.

Me:  Courthouse all the way, baby.  Wham, bam, thank you, your honor!

Friend:  But the wedding dress!

Me:  That you wear once!

Friend:  And the reception!

Me:  That lasts for one evening and costs more than your honeymoon!

Friend:  And the presents!

Me:  Oh, yeah, the presents are pretty sweet.

Friend:  But if I had a wedding, I’d have to get my makeup done.

Me:  I can do your makeup!

Friend:  I’d have to wear heels.  I hate heels.

Me:  Ballet flats.

Friend:  I don’t have a preacher.

Me:  Internet Church of the Spaghetti God.

Friend:  Wait.  Which one of us wants a wedding?

Me:  I can’t help it.  I always have to have the last word.

Friend:  I can see it now:  “Do you, [friend’s name omitted] take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”  “I do.”  And do you, [Hot Fiance’s name omitted], take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”  “I do.”  “And do you, Little Blind Girl, give your blessing to the union of this man and this woman?”  “I do.”  And only then will we be legally married!

Me:  Better believe it!

You think that’s bad, just wait until you read the yet-to-be-written post about the Little Blind Girl and the Open-Bar Reception!

We’ll fly through the blogosphere with the greatest of ease

Trapeze artists in circus, lithograph by Calve...

Image via Wikipedia

That’s it, I’m running away and joining the circus!  I’ve had it with suits and pantyhose and alarm clocks and paperwork and deadlines.  Give me the roar of the crowd!  The ringmaster’s intonations booming above the applause, the cotton candy, the fire-eaters, the elephants and the lions–no clowns, though.  I believe I’ve previously made myself clear on this subject.

So who’s with me?  Lori Franks, you can be ringmaster!  The Waiting can be liontamer!  Onwindydays can be the fire-eater!  Toadsandwich, you’ll be in charge of concessions.  And what will I be, you ask?  I shall be the tightrope walker, or perhaps the trapeze artist, the one who launches herself into the air with no safety net and only her own skill to help her land safely on the other side.  Not that far off from what I do already.

Little Blind Girl’s Traveling Blog Circus begins tonight!  Lose yourself in the glamor, the spectacle, the death-defying feats, and all with no cover charge!  That’s right, ladies and gentlemen, absolutely free.  All we ask is a willingness to be awed and amazed. Now, step up and come inside the Blog Circus, where all are welcome, anything is possible, and the elephants may break free at any moment!  Guaranteed 100% clown free.

Adventures in driving

custom car, shot at local car show/swap meet

Image via Wikipedia

Once upon a time, my friends and family thought it would be a good idea if I learned how to drive.  I’d managed to do so many other things that no one thought a legally blind girl could do, why not this?  I’m not sure what they had planned for the vision test, but it never got that far.  When I got to the actual driving portion of the program, it went a little something like this:

Little blind girl:  (gripping the steering wheel) How do I turn this thing on?

Little blind girl’s friend:  Put the key in the ignition and turn it.

LBG:  OK.  Where’s the ignition?

LBGF:  Right here.  You put the key in like… no, not that key…the really big one…you put it in the ignition here, and you turn it–no, that’s not far enough, a little more…

LBG:  I think it’s stuck.

LBGF:  Here, let’s switch places and I’ll get you set up.

(Shuffle around, Chinese fire drill style)

LBG:  OK, so the car’s on, what do I…oh, my God, we’re moving, I’m not pushing any of the pedals, why are we moving if I’m not pushing any of the pedals??

LBGF:  It’s OK, the car rolls a bit.  Just steer where you want to go, we’ll get you comfortable with the steering wheel first–no, you put your hands at 10 and 2, just slide them over–how did you get your elbow around your neck like that?

LBG:  Which one’s the brake?  I really want to push the brake.

LBGF:  The one on the left.  No, the left, the left!  Don’t think about insurance rates, don’t think about  insurance rates…you’re doing great.  Just ease up off the brake, now.

LBG:  No.

LBGF:  Chris, it’s fine, you’re not going to do any damage to anyone at this speed.

LBG:  No.  I like the brake.  I feel we’ve become very close.

LBGF:  Chris, you can’t date the brake.  Take your foot off the brake.  Come on, just a little…there you go.  Now, just tap the gas, just to get used to it.

LBG:  Are you sure?

LBGF:  Yes, you’ll be fine.  Just tap the gas–holy crap, what was that noise?  Hang on, let me just get out of the car for a minute…Chris, you’ve got to hit the brake–no, the brake!  The brake!

(Screech, crash, cut to State Trooper arriving at the scene)

State Trooper:  So, whose idea was it to let the blind girl drive?

And thus concluded my adventures in driving.  I may have exaggerated a little bit, but not actually that much.  Really, I just added the State Trooper.  Discrimination against the blind in driving laws is a fantastically good idea.  I’m all about the discrimination.  Bring it on.