Having spent the last 9 months or so driving around San Francisco extensively, I believe I have narrowed the main categories of drivers down to the following four:

1. Tourists — Generally don't know where they're going, or what they are doing. Frequently slow down at every intersection to read the road signs. Often end up turning the wrong way up a one-way street, or causing a near-miss by pulling out of a turn the wrong way up a one-way street right in front of you. Have problems parallel parking. If from the suburbs, drive pristine SUVs and trucks the size of studio apartments.
2. Taxi Drivers — Don't understand the concept of "lanes," or "turn signals". The "speed limit" is just a suggestion of what speed not to drive: generally they will be travelling either 10 miles an hour below it, or 10 above. Often will cut across four lanes of traffic for no apparant reason, or just to pick up passengers. Probably don't know where they're going most of the time. Double-parking for long periods of time is a requirement; suddenly choosing to do so is a must every hour or so, particularly in the middle of rush hour traffic. Jumpy at red lights, but slow to hit the gas once the light changes to green.
3. Asians — (I wouldn't have this category if it wasn't observably, consistently true. Honest. I love Asian people, I love their food, but god-damn it, these people cannot drive.) Generally stay exactly at the speed limit or 5 - 10 mph below. Don't seem to understand the concept of "right of way" at stop signs. Have serious problems with parking, including in diagonal spaces. Often act as if they don't know where they are going, and seem to be completely unfamiliar with the streets of the city that they should be native to.
4. Natives — Accustomed to dealing with all the above three categories of drivers. Able to swiftly change lanes at the blink of a brake light. Tend to drive through the city with "confidence" (i.e., recklessly). Familiar with the timing of lights along all major thoroughfares, and has a knack for coasting through from light to light to avoid having to brake for a red.

I have a new pile of yarn to roll around in. I am also now beggared to the point where I will have to be cashing in my dinners-owed and otherwise living off "rice and ketchup" for the rest of the month. Especially if I plan on affording my trip to Portland.

Still, there is much to glee about. GLEE! Unfortunately, it means I am on another yarn diet until I seriously reduce my stash — as in, finishing all the projects currently on needles, getting through the piles of yarn I have set aside for "grand schemes," and so on and so forth. It will be a yarn noted for a lack of yarn-purchasing, I should hope. Maybe also a yarn noted for an abundence of finished objects, who knows?

February 14, 2006

I'm suddenly very lonely today. Not sure if it's a coincidence of the date, or merely of localized circumstances.

Fucking localized circumstances. Why do I even bother sometimes?

February 10, 2006

I'm not terribly fun when I'm grumpy. Fortunately, sleep seems to cure that ailment.

Of course, I also get grumpy when I'm semi-flaked on, my ideal dinner plans get trashed, and I have to drive an hour for something less-than-ideal that I'm not really in the mood for. I know, I didn't have to drive the hour for it. I could have stayed home and cooked and been grumpy in the comfort of home. But hey, I'm dumb like that. Obviously, otherwise I wouldn't be letting myself continue to want to hang out with a flaky guy (wait ... that's a redundant term, isn't it?).

Sleep and February make me ambitious. I'm ripping back this:

Why? Doesn't it look absolutely perfect in the picture? That's because you can't see a) the fact that it likes to slip off my shoulders, and b) the BIG OL' HOLE on the back. I haven't worn it in public for these reasons. But now I have a reason to want to wear it in public. Next weekend. So I have to get cracking; rip back a few inches, and spend the week knitting them back up, sans hole and with a much tighter neckline. I think I can pull it off. Maybe.

The yarn's been knitted up so long, it looks like wet ramen as I frog it. Kewl.

This weekend, WonderCon. We're going to try to see Kevin Smith speak. It should be fun. I hope. Woot. It'll be a madhouse, I'm sure, since we're going on Saturday. Ugh. :P I mean, yay!

In other news, I think the NYC trip is going to be cancelled; turns out my friend who I was going to crash with will be out of town that exact week (it's spring break) that I'm taking off, and though I can use her place just for crash space and all, I think I'd rather go when I can see her and not feel like I'm just getting a free hotel spot. Plus, the east coast is much nicer when it's warmer. And I have a four-day weekend coming up for the 4th of July. More expensive for tickets, yes, but also more time to save money.

Instead, I think I might go to Portland. Never been — I've driven through Oregon, but never really stuck around or saw anything. I have some friends who actually seem enthusiastic to see me if I come, and who have offered crash space, and it's been a long while since I did a road trip. So yes. Time to get Baby tuned up. I like seeing people.

February 5, 2006

Date number three is tonight; it may be the last.

My weight-loss plan for the year is not working out; I've gained, not lost. (Four pounds! WTF?!)

I think I'm really out of shape. I tried jogging today, and after about 7 minutes I had to stop, because my upper back was killing me. My legs could have gone forever, but everything in my ribcage area was going to keel me over. At least I know my limit now. And it is really, really low. How shameful.

I really hate men who don't call. It's incredibly disappointing. Actually, it's incredibly depressing. Now I know why our relationship hasn't gone any further than it has.

Sex is a good thing.

Sweat pants made for jogging are actually really comfy for lounging around in.

Water tastes best when you've exercised for it.

Naps are great. I think it's time for an hour-long one, before I have to start getting ready for my date. Sigh.