Stunt driving

It was so hot when my friend and I got in my car that we decided to open all the doors and sit there for a minute while the car aired out. Instead of troubling to close the doors ourselves, we thought we'd try a clever driving technique.

We were so delighted by the outcome that we repeated the stunt and captured it on video for the world to see.

I'm being repressed

I exercise in my boxers. This routine took an unexpected turn when, on completing my workout, I headed to my kitchen and walked into a group of startled conservatives. They immediately drew attention to my lack of pants, and though everyone was taken aback by my humble appearance, nobody looked less comfortable than the lone girl present.

For a long time I have been bothered by this glaring social paradox. People can run around in bathing suits all they like, but not underwear. If I am in mixed company and am wearing naught but some briefs, it's a scandal. If I walk in on a girl wearing nothing more than the bare essentials, she will shriek and demand my quick departure.

Water apparently changes everything. In its vicinity, wearing nearly nothing is more than okay: it is expected. What's more, this is just as true in the comparative privacy of a backyard pool as it is on a crowded beach, where thousands are near at hand to gawk at you and your merchandise.

If people want to tell me I can't go about my business with my pants down, well and good. But come now, let's be consistent about it.

Charles and Shania

In his book The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis writes, "No man who says I'm as good as you believes it. He would not say it if he did. ... The claim to equality ... is made only by those who feel themselves to be in some way inferior."

As I drove home this evening I was listening to Shania Twain's "Man! I Feel Like A Woman" while simultaneously thinking deeply. Her celebration of womanhood struck me as curious, and I realized that the only reason she insists that being a woman is good is because it's not already obvious. Everyone already knows that it's great to be a man.

Time

If time is so precious, how can my wish for its hastened passage be recognized as anything but a grievous disdain for the life I've been given?

Short

I cried on the way to work today.

Intention

Intention is a funny thing. It burns so brightly one moment, and the next you're in your backyard playing horseshoes with friends. My intentions were quite good, and I was pleased at the prospect of pursing them. Sadly, it's easy to get caught up in the momentum of what is passing at the time. Anything else can be like trying to change the course of a river.

I don't know whether I need to steel myself and expend more energy on following through with my plans, or whether consistently following through forms a habit of acting on one's intentions, thus causing the avoidance of distractions to become the more natural course. I hope to learn the answer, whatever it may be. Walking the road to hell is not one of my ambitions, so I don't want to waste my time paving it.

Scratching the surface

To say that girls drive me mad is giving them too much credit. If they cause madness deliberately, then they might glory in the deed. Yet I've found it more often the case that girls are either unaware of their power over men, or they underestimate how far it extends.

I've written, rewritten, and ultimately abandoned various continuations of this idea. They made me variously self-conscious, uncomfortable, and anxious of their affect on my persona.

I think that Joe Diffie sums it up nicely.

"Then she walks right by and that all goes out the window
and your IQ starts to dwindle at the mention of her name"