Another short one
My finger is quite a bit better, but typing hurts it more than anything so this will have to be short. I suppose I could hunt and peck, but hunting and pecking is so annoying that I’d rather have pains shooting through my fingers. As much as I hated typing class and everything it stood for, it really did teach me excellent typing skills.
Not much happening today. Lately we’ve had three new ladies in water aerobics who are really fun to chat with. It’s so nice to have cool people instead of old hag women. I feel like I have real life friends, even if we don’t actually do anything together.
One of the gals is sort of not a person I would probably ever be friends with, but she’s nice enough. Tonight she wanted me to walk out to her car with her because it was so dark. Being the helper/nurturer/protector that I am, I readily agreed even though I thought it was a bit over the top. I don’t think the Y is a real haven for criminals, but I suppose things can happen anywhere. Turns out I wasn’t the protector. She thought she was protecting me! I wasn’t aware that I needed protection but it was a nice thought. She had a can of mace out and set her cell phone to 911 before we walked out. Maybe I should start doing that. I just have a really hard time believing that anyone would ever want to hurt me (except for the student that threatened my life, was eventually removed from my class and tried to run me over in the teacher’s parking lot. That was scary).
I think my problem is that I read too many thrillers. In thrillers the victims are always thin and attractive or prostitutes. They’re never fat ladies, unless you count Silence of the Lambs. I think this fictional conceit has made me too sure of myself. I suppose in reality I’m not going to be killed by a serial killer. If I’m murdered it will be by some punk who’s robbing me or a drive by shooting or something. I suppose that’s a good thing. I’d rather have a simple gun shot wound than hours and hours of torture. Though I’d obviously rather not be murdered at all and live a long and healthy life.
And now my finger is throbbing so I can’t tell you my granny story for today. Maybe tomorrow. I think this must be a spider bite or something because nothing else makes any sense at all. Also, I did not mean to imply that if you have gout you are fat or an alcoholic. It’s just that I only know three people with gout and they are all like that. I just don’t know very many people so I don’t have a good control group. But I really can’t imagine that I have gout in my finger, though it did hurt like hell yesterday.
April 29th, 2004 at 5:55 pm
I always find it funny when people want company walking to their car. Cause then I’m like, who’s going to walk ME to my car. But in reality, I guess I’m like you. I think getting killed by a serial killer is like winning the (bad) lottery….not that likely to happen. The people that I’ve known that were worried about that were usually pretty narssistic.
April 29th, 2004 at 6:26 pm
I was attacked by a couple of teenage boys when I was in grade 7. I was on a bike that was a bit too big for me and it was on a Saturday in the parking lot of a high school in broad daylight. They blocked my bike, taunted me and then started touching my hair! I’d had enough, so I cat-scratched one kid’s face and then hauled off and landed a huge punch in the nose to the other one. Then I got out of there. So I don’t worry about being attacked because I know I’d fight like a banshee.
Hope your finger continues to improve.
(and I didn’t take the gout comment personally – I’m sorry I came off so snobby).